The Camera Loves You
by S. Snowflake
Summary: Our favorite filmmaker meets someone after a strange, scarf-related mixup. Meanwhile Roger and Mimi plot to set up the pair and make a squatting Maureen jealous. There's shipping of Mark and an original character, Roger and Mimi, and Maureen and Joanne. Rated T for language, etc. This story is the final, revised version!
1. Scarves

_Author's Note/Disclaimer: This was my second Rent story. It was experimental, since I really had not planned on writing such a large Rent piece while working on a long term Little Shop of Horrors story, but I guess you could say it was my distraction from one of my darkest times when I was coping with not living in a steady home and losing my once stable family life. It's funny how sometimes something good can come out of such seemingly awful days in our lives. I'd like to thank my beta reader Rapp Fan, for helping me out with this. Thanks to her role playing as Mark opposite my character, I really understand his character. I have my little sister to thank too for her enthusiasm and advice. Lastly, I do not own any characters here that you know from Rent, no matter how much I (and every other RENThead out there, I'd assume), wish we did. Enjoy!  
_

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

_**The Camera Loves You**_

**-A Rent Story**

*** * *  
**

**Chapter One: Scarves**

"_So, I'll be waiting for the real thing._

_The moment when we're meeting_

_Will play out like a scene_

_Straight off the silver screen…" -Nickelback_

It all started on that subway ride back to the loft. It was not an interesting day. Hell, it was not even a mildly interesting day, but that's what made changes in the young filmmaker Mark's routine more exciting… at least when they actually happened.

Mark sat in his seat on the underground train that day, barely noticing his surroundings and certainly not the people standing around him. _Better not to make eye contact, _he thought. His jacket was slumped over his shoulders and his long, striped scarf hung loosely from his neck as he stroked his index finger over his camera's lens cap. It was all he could do to forget the fact that his current project, a follow up to his previous documentary, but this time about the possibilities of HIV/AIDS treatment, was not going anywhere. There were so many theories about a "miracle drug" that could slow down the horrible disease for a very long time period, but no conclusive facts.

The train jerked to its stop in the East Village. Standing up abruptly, Mark moved toward the double doors and prepared to make his exit. A girl of about average height with chocolate colored hair brushed up against him as she came out of the car first and stepped out onto the platform. She moved so fast that he was not able to get a really good look at her, but he saw a flash of blue and white stripes against her black jacket.

_That almost looks like my…_ He looked down where his own striped scarf might be and found, to his shock, that the garment was gone. Then he looked back at the girl, saw her clutching the blue and white fabric, and understood.

"Hey! You, girl! Give that back!" Mark shouted to her with his voice echoing down the station hall. When she didn't turn around, he ran over before she could leave.

"Hey, give me that!" he repeated sternly.

The girl suddenly looked up at the blond stranger. "What?"

"You heard me, give back that scarf!" he said.

"Are you crazy? This is mine!"

"No, it's not! I just got off the train and you took my scarf as you passed by. I saw-well, I didn't exactly see…" He thought about giving her a chance, but then remembered how she had bumped up against him like a pickpocket. "Hand it over!" he said and pulled on one loose end with enough strength to make his glasses fall off his nose.

"Hey, let go!" she yelled.

"-You let go!"

"No, you! It's m-mine…" The girl gritted her teeth and pulled on the scarf with all of her might, but she found herself evenly matched with the stranger. At last, she got an idea. "Hey, heeey!" she screamed to get his attention.

Mark stopped tugging the scarf, but still held on. "Yeah, what the hell do you want from me now?"

"Just take it," she answered and let go of the scarf and it flopped to the ground. "-But before you run off, you might want to read the name on the tag."

Mark might've gone away with the scarf with that, but he smirked and read the tag on the scarf anyway. "To Musetta," he read aloud. "Merry Christmas… oh, shit." He handed the scarf back then, embarrassed to the point of blushing. "Sorry, I-I thought you had taken it."

He was sure that the girl would turn her nose up at him and snatch the scarf away, but instead she took it back carefully and smiled at him. The freckles on her face moved upward cutely with her grin.

"It's alright. I understand." She laughed at the situation and looked around the station. "So, where's your scarf anyway?"

Mark wondered that too until he saw a flash of white hanging from beyond the yellow safety line of the platform. "Shit," he muttered again and walked over to retrieve his scarf. By now it had a large tear in the side and two or three footprints on it from people walking on of it. "Well, at least it wasn't stolen."

"Yeah," said the girl quietly before she sighed. "Too bad it got all ripped up."

Mark dusted off his scarf and stood up. "Eh, this thing's been through worse. My friend Mimi might be able to fix it."

The girl nodded and followed him out of the station and into Alphabet City. She smiled again as she took the frosty air into her lungs with satisfaction. The young man with the scarf like hers, she realized, was shivering a little.

"It-um, it got colder, didn't it?" she asked him.

Mark took a moment to speak, but finally said something to the girl who for some reason wanted to talk with him. He wasn't used to talking to people like this. "-Yeah, it did. I'm used to cold though. Our apartment has no heat."

"-Damn!" the girl said. "How can you stand it in winter?"

He chuckled. "-Illegal wood-burning stove. It's not great or anything, but it works when you need it."

"Oh, oh, I see." She took a pause before asking, "So, where do you live? Around here?"

"Yeah, well, a few blocks from here. On the corner of Eleventh Street and Avenue B," said Mark. It took him a moment to start thinking about this whole thing. _Why does she want to know? Why would she care where I live? _He cleared his throat and asked, "-And you?"

"Avenue E," she answered, her voice getting a little louder now. "-And my place isn't fancy either. My roommate's kind of a bitch, and having to share a bathroom with her isn't easy. Plus, she's got this big, fat cat. It'd be fine if he didn't sleep on my head and shed all over!"

Mark couldn't help but laugh at that. "It's not as bad as a big, yappy Akita pissing on your floor every time your landlord's over," he said, thinking of Benny with he and Allison's old dog.

"Huh, maybe," the girl muttered, "Anyway, at least we get a heater. Not like you crazy people."

Mark shrugged. "Maybe we're crazy, but it's not all our fault. They can't fix the heat, even when me and my roommate can afford it."

The girl looked over her shoulder. "Oh, I've got to go now." She held out her right hand like someone might do from an old movie. "Nice meeting you…"

"-Mark. Mark Cohen," he filled in and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you too…"

"-Musetta Silva."

Mark nodded and began to walk away from her before thinking of something and blurting it out, "-Wait, your name's Musetta? You mean like in La Boheme?"

Musetta turned around, astonished that Mark knew this, and came back to him for a moment. "Yeah. My mom was a fan of opera. Puccini's La Boheme is her favorite, so…here I am! H-how'd you know that?"

"Well, it's not a name you hear all the time," he replied, smiling at her.

"No, I guess not," Musetta said and blushed slightly at Mark's smile. "I-I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Then she walked away with a small wave before vanishing from his sight. Mark stayed in that spot on the corner before finally turning away and shaking his head. He spoke to himself in his interviewing voice, as if he were a reporter for his own life, "-'Aaand Mark Cohen will probably never see her again. What's he got to say to that?'" He sighed before adding, "No comment…"


	2. A Second Encounter

_**The Camera Loves You**_

**Chapter Two: The Second Encounter**

_"__Do you believe in magic in a young man's heart?_

_How the music can free you whenever it starts?_

_And it's magic, if the music is groovy_

_It makes you feel happy like an old time movie…" –John B. Sebastian_

Life continued normally. That meant more filming for Mark, although the slow process of finding any information never really improved. There were odd, little jobs he found between working on his documentary and other things, but nothing lasted.

After a long day of interviewing a few Life Support members for their beliefs about cures and any other useful information, Mark sat on a bench, eating a Snickers candy bar he managed to buy from loose change. Preoccupied in the sweet treat, he never expected to meet the girl from the subway again.

"Mark, is that you?" said the familiar female voice from behind him.

Mark almost choked on the candy bar before swallowing. "Moh," he muttered and covered his mouth so that she wouldn't see. "Musetta?"

"Hey," the girl answered with a smile and looked at the bench almost eagerly. "Uh, mind if I…"

"Oh, no, not at all," Mark answered a little more quickly than he'd hoped to before moving his camera on his lap.

"Much obliged," she said. She tried to sound elegant, like she was playing a game, and tightened her own striped scarf around her neck. "How's the scarf?"

Mark laughed and showed her the large stitches that Mimi had put in his scarf. "-All fixed. How's the annoying cat?"

She sighed. "-Still giving me allergies. And my roomie still won't listen to me about it."

"Heh, sounds like things haven't changed much."

"-Nope." They sat on the bench together for a while before she looked at his camera. "-You've got that camera with you again?"

Mark nodded. "I always have it around."

"Oh. So…"

"I'm a filmmaker," he told her. "I make documentaries."

"Oh," Musetta said with a nod. "So, what's your documentary about?"

_Crap,_ Mark thought. He did not know how to approach her question. She no doubt expected him to say that it was something about culture or business, and talking about such a horrible disease was never something anyone particularly enjoyed. "Well, it's about AIDS," he said somewhat reluctantly.

Musetta blinked, but seemed surprisingly unchanged by his reply. "Wow, that's… different." She paused and started to ask quietly, "Um, do _you_ have…?"

"Oh, no, no! I don't have it," he replied quickly before he paused and sighed to himself. "-But a couple of my friends do, and, well, I feel like I need to reach out people. We lost a good friend, and I made a documentary in her honor."

"Wow," Musetta repeated. "That's pretty deep stuff."

"Thanks…I think?"

She laughed. "You're welcome. And that's a good cause. Not enough people know about that damn virus." Mark took another bite of his chocolate bar before she added, "My uncle died from it too."

Mark stopped chewing the candy and swallowed. "Really?"

"Yeah. He was making bad choices. Getting into drugs, you know? Anyway, he didn't tell us until right before it took hold and, well, there wasn't much time left by then. That's when most of my family found out about the disease."

Mark, getting a spark of inspiration, grabbed the camera from his bag. "You mind telling me more about it? I mean, I don't get to interview too many people and…"

Musetta's eyes widened and she grinned her freckled grin. "You want to interview me? A-alright, I-I look pretty awful, but-"

"What? No, you look great," Mark interrupted and realized what he had just said with a blush. "And, well, it's not the most beautiful subject anyway."

"-Right," she answered quietly and sat up straight before Mark turned on the camera and gave her a thumbs up. She cleared her throat and restarted, this time giving the sad tale much more detail than she had before. Mark kept the camera rolling through her entire story, listening intently to every word. Even though Musetta was no modern bard, he couldn't stop watching and listening to her. When she finally finished talking, Mark almost forgot to stop shooting.

"How'd I do?" she asked.

Mark smiled and looked down at his shoes. "The camera loves you."

* * *

Later on, Mark returned to the loft where he and his roommate Roger lived. He found Roger, as he guessed he would, playing his guitar on the couch. Mimi was with him, pretending to sleep with her head on his shoulder. They did this quite often, just zoning out while listening to the music in the room. It was their ritual as a pair.

"Hey, guys," Mark said as he came inside and set his bag down on the table.

Roger waved in acknowledgment of his presence and Mimi opened her eyes tiredly. "Hey, Mark," she mumbled.

"You're helping Joanne with the equipment this week?" Roger asked.

"Yeah, she still hasn't completely figured out the cables," Mark said while he slowly rewound the footage from that day and grabbed something to eat out of the cupboard. "Mind if I look over this on the projector?"

Roger looked up for one moment before answering, "I'm okay with that. You, Meems?"

"Fine by me," she said.

After eating dinner, the filmmaker watched the images on the bare wall where he screened footage every now and then. He paid attention to the frames going by and listened to the Life Support members' speeches one by one, making mental notes of bad angles, lighting or things he should cut out. Then Musetta's interview came onscreen and he forgot his mental notes altogether as his mind went blank.

_Damn, she did it to me again! _ he almost heard himself thinking.

Roger stopped playing his guitar after awhile and looked over at Mark's footage of Musetta. "Hey, Mimi, is she from Life support?"

Mimi opened her eyes groggily and looked at the screen, creasing her brow in confusion. "No, I've never seen her before."

"Hey, Mark, who's the chick?" Roger asked with a chuckle.

Mark turned around. "Oh, uh, she's just someone I met on the subway awhile ago. Her name's Musetta."

"-Ooh, like in La Boheme?" Mimi asked excitedly.

Roger interrupted his girlfriend. "Is she even from Life Support?"

"No, no," Mark answered. "-But she told me about her uncle who had AIDS and I decided to interview her."

Musetta's voice played back as the three Bohemians listened to her, "-Little research has been done on the disease. When my uncle finally took AZT, the virus had already taken hold." She stopped and bit her lip. "I just remember how painful it was to watch someone you love die."

Roger scoffed. "She can't understand the pain 'til she's actually got it."

Mark smirked and turned around again. "Hey, she makes her point. We may not be the ones dying, but having to watch people die isn't easy either, Roger."

Roger and Mimi looked at each other with their eyebrows raised before a small smile emerged on their faces and they turned back to Mark. "Getting kind of defensive of this girl, aren't you?" Roger asked as Mimi giggled.

"-What? What do you mean?" Mark asked, turning away from his footage again with irritation.

"You like her, don't you?" Mimi asked.

Mark laughed at that. "You're crazy. I just met her on the subway and we talked again today. We're not even what you'd call friends."

"All the reason to get to know her better, right?" said Roger. "Ah, come on, Mark. You know you think she's cute."

Mark turned the projector off and tried to hide the blush that was creeping up his face, though he knew he couldn't hide it from his best friend or Mimi who had the eyesight of a cat. "You know I'm not looking for anybody. I don't need a girlfriend, I've got my films."

Roger and Mimi turned to each other. "Denial," they both said at once.

Mark finally had it and stood up. "Thanks, guys," he said before slamming the door to the room and leaving the loft.

Roger rolled his eyes and picked at the guitar strings. Mimi pouted after Mark left and looked over to her boyfriend.

"Maybe we went too far, Rog."

Roger shook his head. "-Typical Mark."

"I feel bad for him though," she said. "I mean, ever since I've met him Mark's been all by himself. He just doesn't look past that camera for anybody."

"-Again, typical Mark. He never really let go after Maur-"

The phone rang and interrupted him, but as usual, Roger and Mimi screened the phone call and listened to the music of the guitar before the answering machine sounded the usual, loud, "SPEEAAK!"

"Hey, Mark, Roger," said a girl's rather loud voice on the answering machine. "It's Maureen. Listen, Joanne and I got in another fight and she kind of, uh, kicked me out again. So I'm heading over to your place tonight, hope you don't mind."

Roger scowled and Mimi rolled her eyes. _Shit, _they both thought.

"-Oh, and Mark, please don't screen any of your footage. I swear if I have to look at any more depressing Life Support footage this month, I'm gonna flip! Oh, and also, I'm bringing my extra large sleeping bag. You know, the one that takes up the whole couch? Okay? See you in ten minutes."

"Fuck," Roger finally muttered under his breath.

"Maureen may be like family to all of us, but why can't you guys just tell her to stay somewhere else when she and Joanne get in bad fights?" Mimi asked.

"She invites herself, and then there's no turning back. You can't win when she's in a bad mood! And Mark wouldn't turn her out anyway, he's a sucker for Maureen."

Mimi laughed. "Pookie, the drone."

"Yeah, _her_ drone. Back when they were dating, she cheated on him all the time and he didn't say anything, but she'd sure as hell be pissed if he got a-" Then he stopped playing the guitar and looked up.

"-If he _what_, Rog?"

Roger bit his lower lip slightly. "Meems, how'd you like to help Mark get a girlfriend and get back at Mo for not paying you for that last round at the Life Cafe?"

Mimi smiled slyly. "Sounds like an offer I can't refuse!"


	3. Cheerleading Rejects and Stupid Cats

**_The Camera Loves You_**

**Chapter Three: Cheerleading Rejects and Stupid Cats**

The December morning quiet was broken by the sound of loud snoring from the couch. Mark sat at the table, grumbling bitterly about Maureen's snoring as he picked at the few spare pieces of Captain Crunch left in their box. Roger was pretending to sleep through the sounds with a pillow crammed into his ears.

Mark almost smiled. _If there's one thing I don't miss about Maureen it's her snoring. How has Joanne put up with that for so long?_

Maureen snored particularly loudly then, and Roger finally sat up. "Ugh, shit…" he growled and threw the pillow clear across the room.

"-Morning," Mark answered.

Roger scowled and trudged over to sit with his friend at the table. "Yeah, nothing like it."

"You aren't exactly Mr. Silent Night yourself, Roger."

"What? I don't snore that bad!"

Mark coughed and muttered, "_Agh-bull-shit-ahem_." He took a few more bites of the cereal before asking, "So, what are you going to do today?"

"The usual. Play the guitar, go see Mimi at the Cat Scratch…" A particularly loud snore interrupted him and he sighed. "-Get the squatter out of here."

Mark chuckled. "Sounds like a good plan. Life Support isn't meeting today, so I really don't have much to do. Maybe I'll stay here for awhile and pick up something to eat with you and Mimi later?"

Maureen snored louder again before Roger said, "What about seeing that girl again?"

"Girl?" asked Mark over the snore.

"-You know. Musetta."

"Roger, you don't just go meet up with someone you met on the subway."

"Then why did you interview her?" Roger asked, making his friend get angry again. "Hey, meeting someone in one night and getting together worked for me and my girlfriend, right? Didn't you get her number?"

Mark shrugged. "I know she lives on Avenue E, but I'm not just going to go over there, Roger. That'd be weird. And besides, her roommate's supposed to be a bitch."

Maureen snored extremely loudly and woke herself up. "-Whaa… who's a bitch?" she asked with her hair frizzled.

"It's nothing, Mo," Roger answered, laughing at the performer's hair before turning back to Mark. "From what you say about her she'd probably understand. Come on, I'll even go with you if you don't want to sound stupid."

Mark felt compelled to throw something at Roger for that last comment. Not something heavy, just enough to show that he was going a little too far. "Okay, if it'll get you to shut up, I'll go see her."

Roger smiled tiredly. "Great. I'll call Meems and we'll make it a double date."

"Roger, shut up. I'm not going to ask her out like that," Mark replied as he packed his camera. "I'm just going to go take her out to eat or something."

"Hm, kind of like…a _date_!" Roger teased. Mark scowled.

"Who are you guys talking about?" Maureen asked.

Roger turned to her and smiled. _Step one: make Maureen jealous from the start._ "Didn't you hear? Mark met this really hot girl on the subway a few weeks ago."

Maureen laughed. "-Ha, _Mark _with a hot girl? That's a good one."

"Thanks for the boost of confidence, Maureen," Mark said, trying to show no emotion.

Maureen laughed again, louder. "This I'll have to see by the end of the day!"

Roger turned away with a small grin, compelled to chuckle maniacally. _Perfect…_

* * *

Mark nervously stood outside the apartment door. He knocked three times in hopes that he had found the right room and Musetta would come to the door. At the same time, he hoped that nobody was home at all and that he could slip a message underneath the door or something for another day. Then the door opened to reveal another girl. This one was much taller than Musetta with blond hair, wearing an old cheerleader's outfit.

"Who are you?" the cheerleader asked with a smirk.

"Um-um, Mark. I'm Mark!" Mark answered and waved lamely.

"Mark who?" the tall girl asked again before a big, black cat rubbed up against her leg and growled at Mark.

"Err…Mark Cohen. I uh-I know Musetta Silva. Does-does she…live here?"

The girl chortled in her nose. "-That figures." She turned around. "Hey, Muse! There's some guy with a camera at the door who says he knows you."

"What? Hang on!" Musetta's voice said from behind the tall girl before she came stumbling toward the door, wearing a smock covered in red paint. She smiled and said with small excitement, "It _is_ you, Mark! When Stacie said a guy with a camera was at the door I thought…well, you know."

Mark half laughed, surprised to see the girl he knew from the subway coated in a layer of paint. "-Yeah, I guess." He turned to the girl with her enormous cat. "So, you must be the roommate Musetta told me about."

She held out her right hand to shake while holding the cat under her left arm. "Stacie. And you're Mark, and I've never heard of you."

"-Meeroooow!" growled the cat.

Stacie smiled and held the fat cat up in the air. "And he's Sir Chubbsworth. My wittle _shnwookums_!"

"-Err, yeah, I can see that," Mark replied nervously. _And people think I'm weird because of a little filming obsession? _he thought and continued, "So, um, Musetta, do you mind if I talked to you for a minute?"

Musetta smiled. "Not at all. Can he come in, Stacie?"

Stacie put the cat down on the floor again. "Yeah, I was just off to work out anyway. Don't forget to feed Sir Chubbsworth, okay?"

"-Yes Stacie," answered Musetta as her roommate left. She rolled her eyes and looked to the floor. _Your Bitchiness…_

Mark came inside the room shyly and Stacie shut the door behind him. "So, you weren't kidding about her," he said.

"Nope. Cheerleading reject and all," Musetta sighed. "So, what'd you come to talk about? You need another interview?"

Mark almost gulped. "Well, no, you see…"

He stopped when he saw the wall in front of him. There were numerous sketches and paintings there, most of the subjects being colorful buildings or Central Park trees, and all of them showing an unusual use of color that gave the city a sort of eerie, yet lively, feel. It was something crying for the new.

"Wow…did you make these?" he asked Musetta, not looking away from the wall.

Musetta glanced at the art on the walls and nodded with a shrug. "Just things I paint in my spare time."

Mark walked closer to an unfinished canvas that still wet from fresh paint, showing a fall tree with grayish-green buildings in the background. He understood why Musetta was coated in paint then. "-That's not something you see everyday."

"-Coming from the guy who carries his camera with him all the time," she retorted. "Just kidding. But seriously, Mark, why'd you come find me?"

"Well…I don't know. My ex is over at our apartment, and she's driving me and Roger crazy, and Roger started talking about me meeting up with you, and…am I making sense?" When she nodded he continued, "-I don't know, I just was wondering if you'd want to go, you know, get a bite to eat or something? It's-it's not like a date or anything, just to, you know, talk."

She smiled at Mark's apparent awkwardness. He was sweet in his own way. "I'd love to."

"_Meeeerooow_!" groaned Sir Chubbsworth.

Musetta sighed. "Stupid cat."

Then she took off her painting smock, revealing a green tank top that showed off her bust nicely. Mark grunted and tried not to stare. He hadn't gotten a good look at Musetta until now since she had always worn a jacket or something to cover up her torso. She was a healthy looking girl, not terribly skinny like how Mimi and her friends looked, but attractive nonetheless.

Then as quickly as her pale, painter skin was exposed, she covered it up with another sweater and Mark snapped out of his daze.

"Well," Musetta said and slipped on the neck of her sweater so that she was fully covered again, "Where to, Mark?"

Mark could only think of one place to be. A little place not too far away where he knew that he could talk to her confidently. He paused before asking, "Ever been to the Life Café?"


	4. Words Unspoken

**_The Camera Loves You_**

**Chapter Four: Words Unspoken**

Mark had known since their last meeting on the bench that he and Musetta would be good friends, but he didn't expect to be talking to her at the Life Café for more than an hour or so. The questions and subsequent answers kept coming. Musetta was just as pleasantly surprised to be making a new friend.

"So, how long have you been into filming?" Musetta asked Mark at the Life Café after taking a sip of her tea.

"Pretty much as long as I can remember," Mark replied. "My mom gave me my first camcorder when I was ten and I've been filming ever since. How about you with your painting?"

"Hmm, well, back in high school I really didn't have much to turn to," she said with a small frown. "I guess I just never stopped trying different things with my work. Mom and Dad were proud of me, but nobody else really talked to me, so I took up my time creating. I was the nerd in the back of the class looking up art history. It helped me feel better then, but now I'm out in the big world."

"Hey, it's not all bad. Things get better… so they tell me," Mark said. "I know how that feels. Roger was my only friend back home in Scarsdale. No one understood why I was filming all the time, and my family was sort of fucked up. Mom and Dad divorced when I was twelve. Dad, that prick, he never wanted me to be a filmmaker. I've had footage put on the news and he still doesn't give a fuck."

"I'm sorry," Musetta said. "My parents don't want me to put my career in painting either. They'd rather have me in business or some other boring job." She scooted her chair a little closer to his. "Not like we had any say in it back when we were kids, right?"

Mark tried to avoid looking at Musetta in any unusual way, but she was intriguingly close. He was starting to enjoy looking at her pretty face with her small nose, freckled cheeks and glittering blue-green eyes, but he would never admit it to himself and especially not to her.

"Yeah, well, I'm over the past now, but that's why I'm living in this hellhole instead of in some place where Mom could help me pay rent. But anyway, I don't want to make this into a pity party," he said, looking to his side.

"-Well, maybe you are little, but hey, don't we all?" she giggled.

"I guess," Mark answered before hearing the door open and a cacophony of people's voices. He recognized each one immediately: Maureen, the loudest, talking about a random performance plan, Mimi chattering in Spanish to someone from Life Support, the anarchist Collins saying something new about his Theory of Actual Reality, and finally, Roger's whistle to get his attention.

The lead waiter glared at the Bohemians as they came in. "If you guys even think about moving the tables…"

"Relax. No dancing tonight. Hey!" Roger called over to Mark and sat at the table beside his roommate and Musetta. Mimi immediately followed.

"Hey," Mark replied. "I guess you invited everyone over?"

"Yeah," Roger said and muttered to Mark, "Everyone wanted to see you out with a hot date!"

Mark almost spat his tea out on the table. "-You told them _what_?"

"You must be Musetta," Mimi said to the girl. "Nice to meet you. Name's Mimi Marquez."

"Oh, hello, Mimi," Musetta replied slowly and looked to Roger. "And you're…Roger, right?"

"-The one and only," Roger said.

She smiled shyly. "…And, them?"

Roger almost answered, but Mark raised his hand and Roger understood that he would tell her instead. "That's Tom Collins. He was our old roommate, but now he's been living off tutoring."

"-And don't forget the ATM," muttered Mimi.

"Huh, yeah," Mark said, not wanting to tell Musetta that story before pointing to Maureen, who was coming over to sit. "And this is-"

"-Maureen Johnson," Maureen answered and grabbed Musetta's hand to shake it. "Nice to meet you. I've heard you're Mark's new girlfriend."

Musetta stuttered about everything Maureen had just said while Mark turned red as a beet from embarrassment. "-W-well, you're right on th-he nice to meet part, b-but his girlfriend?"

Mark chuckled nervously, trying to cover up what his friends were doing. "You-you have to learn not to take her seriously, Muse. Maureen just gossips all the time." He looked over at Maureen, glaring. "She never knows _when-to-shut-up_."

Maureen scoffed, confused and offended. "What? But Roger said-"

"So, Musetta, I hope you don't mind them hanging out here, even if they _weren't-invited_," Mark interrupted quickly and glared even more sternly at Roger.

Musetta tried to smile. "I guess not. As long as they don't…" She stopped.

"-As long as they don't _what_?" Mark asked.

"-Oh, nothing," she replied and sipped her tea again. "It's fine."

Collins sat down across from Roger and Mimi. "Hey. So, what kind of artist did Mark here pick?"

Mark's eyes widened and Musetta seemed to shrink in her chair. _What the hell are they talking about? We're not together!_ she thought. "Well, um, I-I paint sometimes."

"A painter?" He smiled warmly. "Finally! We don't have one of those yet. Welcome to the Alphabet City Avant Guard, Miss Musetta…"

"-Silva," she muttered. _At least he's nice enough._

Roger nudged Mark's arm and muttered, "Nice choice there, man. Another artist."

Mark felt like hitting his forehead with his palm with frustration. "-Roger, she…"

Mark might've said what he wanted to say; that he hadn't taken Musetta out on a date, that they were just eating lunch and this was embarrassing for them both, but then the door opened again.

"Hey, everybody," Joanne said and walked inside with her bag full of papers from her latest case.

Everyone said hello except for Maureen who promptly ordered a stiff drink in response. Had he not been so embarrassed, Mark would have wanted to catch the lesbian couple's fighting on film.

Joanne smiled back and sat down next to Collins, far enough away from Maureen to avoid confrontation. "So, is this the girl Roger told us about?"

Roger nodded. "She and Mark have a real thing going, right Mark?"

"Err, not exactly," Mark said.

"We're just-" Musetta started.

"Friends," they both said at once and looked at each other.

Joanne raised her eyebrows and nodded at Mark. Somehow or other, Joanne always understood exactly what Mark meant. They had been good friends since they had first met, and had a good understanding for the other. Unfortunately, everyone else seemed to ignore the statement.

"So, Mark, are you gonna show her the loft after this?" Roger asked, laughing. "We could give you two some time alone."

Musetta choked on her drink and stood up from the table, coughing as the tea clogged in her windpipe. She had certainly heard what Roger had just implied with that last statement, and decided to end this.

"Excuse me, I…need some air," she said and walked out the front door, shaking her head. She stood outside for a while, watching the cars going by, before briskly walking away.

She didn't know that Mark had followed her outside. He was good at following at a distance, but that was the last thing he wanted to do as the girl sped up and started to leave him behind.

"Wait! Wait!" Mark interrupted and ran over to Musetta's side. "Musetta, please don't go."

"I'm sorry, Mark, but I-I just can't do this."

"-Wait, what d'you mean?"

She stopped walking and looked to the ground. "I appreciate this, but I'm just not ready to jump into being anything more than friends, Mark."

"No, no, I wasn't either!" he stammered. "I-they…my friends just decided to come over and mess with us. I didn't know they'd come. Musetta, you've got to believe me, I wouldn't try to put any pressure on you."

She turned to him, and for the first time since their scarf incident at the subway station grew angry at him. "Really? 'Cause it seems to me that you asked your friends over to break the ice with some girl you barely even know! This was all some kind of setup, wasn't it?"

"No, Musetta, it wasn't a setup at all. I mean…okay, Roger wanted me to ask you out, but I just wanted to spend some time with you. I don't know. I didn't mean to…"

"-Mark, damn it, stop making excuses and live your life for yourself!" she yelled. "If you didn't want to talk to me today then you didn't have to."

Mark knew he was losing the battle now. "I did want to talk to you, really. It wasn't just a setup. I wouldn't have brought you here if it was like that. I really like talking to you."

Musetta looked to her shoes and Mark stopped talking as she frowned and her eyes became flat green in color.

"Look, I'm sorry. It is my fault for not telling them about us being just friends, but-" He released a breath and it showed up in the cold air. "You know, maybe it is better if you just go home."

Musetta looked up and nodded before leaving Mark behind on that cold afternoon. Hurt and confused, the young filmmaker and painter knew that neither of them would sleep well that night.


	5. Fingers Crossed

**_The Camera Loves You_**

**Chapter Five: Fingers Crossed**

"_And I almost had you,_

_But I guess that doesn't cut it._

_I almost had you_

_And I didn't even know it…" –Bowling for Soup_

Mark could barely stand to turn on his camera for a few days after the incident, but eventually he decided to absorb himself in his work. He interviewed about five more Life Support members for their opinions, but after screening his footage alone, he would always watch a little of Musetta's interview. It almost compensated for her presence. He started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, his feelings were changing into something more…what dangerous thoughts!

In any case, he consulted some of his wiser friends Collins and Joanne about it, inviting them to the Life Cafe for a chat. When he explained how he hadn't meant to make Musetta uncomfortable, they both understood. When he told them how he wanted to make her feel better, Collins recommended straight forward apology while Joanne told him to wait until the time was right. Getting at least a bit more advice, Mark felt compelled to ask one last question.

"It's weird, but, I-I keep thinking about her," he said. "-She's like…_an itch_ I can't scratch! Why is she so itchy?"

With that, the lawyer and the anarchist looked to each other and smiled. "You're in love," they said at once.

Mark denied that answer with all of his might.

* * *

Musetta, meanwhile, ignored Stacie's questions about what happened that day when she and Mark went to the Life Café. It was embarrassing to hear the question, "Are you going out with him?" every time the subject was brought up, though why it was so embarrassing Musetta wasn't sure. She had been in quite a few equally awkward situations, but she was still so angry with Mark and his friends for doing what they did. Especially Mark. He had seemed like such a nice person before.

The filmmaker with the slightly spiky blond hair and the striped scarf and shirt was always popping into her mind, whether she was thinking of him in a good or bad way. She kept hearing his voice, telling her about some adventure with his eccentric friends. After a week had passed, she started thinking of these things not as an annoyance, but that her heart was trying to tell her something.

_I don't actually have a thing for Mark, _she thought. _We just barely met, and… there's no way he feels like that. Not now. He told me to go home, after all. Besides, I'm just not ready for this. At the very least, I'll have to forgive him, but how?_

Stacie watched her roommate erasing her latest sketch of a tree frantically the following Sunday morning. Musetta had no focus on her work these days, and Stacie could guess the reason why. "You could just call him. You got his number from your last visit, didn't you?"

Musetta looked up from her drawing, surprised. "Yeah, I have it. But he probably doesn't want to talk to me, Stacie. He's probably mad at me."

Stacie laughed. "Muse, if there's one thing I know about guys like camera boy it's they'd never turn down a girl asking them out. They take whatever they can get."

"Stacie, I'm not sure if I'm want to ask him out, I just don't want this stuff between us anymore. I want to at least be friends with him again."

"Then just do us both a favor and call him, Muse. You'd feel better, you know it. It's your day off, go do something nice for yourself."

Musetta sat still for a moment before saying, "Thanks, Stacie. You know, you're not as much of a bitch as I thought you were."

Stacie scoffed and threw a pillow at her playfully. "Thanks for the love."

"Meeeerooow!" yelled Sir Chubbsworth and rubbed up against Musetta's leg.

Musetta laughed. "Yes, Sir Chubbsworth, you're not too bad either."

* * *

Mark and Roger sat in the loft that morning, waiting for Maureen to finally get out of the shower so they could relieve themselves. She sang loudly as the water splashed around her, and the roommates gave a singular sigh of defeat.

"How did we put up with her before, Mark?" Roger asked. "I mean, we all used to be roommates, and now we can't stand her."

It was strange that Mark forgave Roger so quickly for the incident at the Life Café, but somehow he couldn't stay angry with his best friend for disagreements like that. After all, Roger couldn't have planned to push him and Musetta together…could he?

The filmmaker changed the thought quickly and went back to the conversation with a shrug. "Things have changed. I'm not dating her anymore, so now we're more free to be mad at her."

Roger chuckled. "-Whatever, _Pookie_."

Mark shot Roger a glare before the phone rang. They waited for the usual sound, "SPEEEAAK!" and then the message.

"Um…God, I'm really not sure if I have the right number, but, uh, if this is Mark Cohen and Roger Davis, it's Musetta Silva," Musetta's voice said.

Mark and Roger both stared at the answering machine and back at each other before Mark nearly galloped over to the phone before she could say anything more.

"Musetta?" he said, grabbing the phone excitedly.

"Mark?" she replied. "Hi!"

"Hi…so, what's going on?"

"I-I feel bad about what happened at the Life Café before. I overreacted and…I was wondering if, um, you were available to hang out today? I'm off from work on Sundays and there's no class either, so-"

"What's she saying?" Roger interrupted.

"Roger, _not-now_!" Mark muttered under his breath and continued, "Well, sure, I've got nothing I need to do today. Where will I meet you?"

"I'll come over there if that's okay. We could just walk around and stuff. I don't have much money on me, but enough to get some food or something like that."

"-Sounds good. I'll see you then. Bye."

"-Bye."

Mark stopped and hung up the phone, staring at the floor. "I'm going to spend the day with Musetta."

Roger came over and punched Mark's side in a friendship gesture. "I knew you'd get her back."

Mark was trying not to hear his friend's comments. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to make sure I don't look like a train wreck when she gets here."

"-You mean like you always do?" Roger asked. "I'm just kidding, Mark."

Mark kept shaking his head as he looked for something he could use as a mirror before Maureen walked out of the bathroom. Mark ran inside with a comb in hand. Maureen looked at him, puzzled at his disposition, before sitting on the couch with a bath towel wrapped around her head and put on her shoes.

Roger picked up the phone and dialed Mimi's phone number. "Hey, Meems. Guess what? She called Mark! -Uh-huh, yeah. -So, we're go on our evil plan? -Great, bye."

Maureen opened her mouth as if to ask something, but for once decided silence was better and shrugged.

* * *

Mark sat by the window, watching the people below the building as he waited for Musetta. He hoped that she hadn't got lost on the way. He slowly picked his camera up and switched it on. He was used to recording his voice like this when he was alone.

"December twenty-first, eleven AM, Eastern Standard Time… Mark Cohen waits for a friend by the window. Will he be able to talk to her again? Time will tell." He stopped, thinking of Musetta, and shut off the camera. _Great, I'm letting what Roger said get to me. I mean, she's a great girl, but she's not looking for some bohemian cameraman. I don't know if I'm ready to go looking for someone again either, I should tell her-_

There came three knocks on the door before Musetta's voice said, "Mark? Hello? Anybody home?"

Mark took a deep breath and opened the door to find Musetta, just as he had thought.

They both talked at once, "Sorry I'm late-" "You're here earlier-" then they stopped.

"-You first," Mark said to her.

"Sorry I'm late." She took a pause, then added, "And I'm real sorry I left back at the Life Café before. It just was too much to handle at once."

"I know. I'm sorry that I took you there in the first place. That's no place for privacy around here. As for the guys, I think Roger just got them all riled up, but they're pretty nice once you get to know em'." Mark tried to remember his manners, seeing that Musetta had likely walked here in the cold. "So, you want to come in?"

Musetta visibly shivered. The loft seemed just as cold as outside. "That's okay. I'll come by later when you guys get the stove working. Is Roger around?"

Mark shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since this morning. Maybe he's out with Mimi or working on that Christmas Eve show at the old dance studio. Come on, let's go."

The two of them left the building together, talking casually about nothing in particular. The awkwardness of meeting again had quickly subsided. Little did they know that they were being watched.

"Okay, Mimi, you go find Maureen. I'll go to a payphone and tell you where we are, and then you know what to do," Roger whispered to his girlfriend as they watched the pair leave.

Mimi chuckled. "Maureen's going to be so pissed!"

* * *

Mark had never been the best at finding places to go. He usually let his heart guide him to wherever he could find his work, so it was difficult finding some place for he and Musetta to be alone. This made them even more easily followed as well, since they were so preoccupied with walking around that they never saw Roger behind them. At least they finally could talk to each other without feeling pressured. Once again, they brought up their artistic interests. Musetta asked Mark many questions about filmmaking and his camera. It was refreshing for Mark to actually have someone be interested in his work, but eventually he grew bored of talking about himself.

"Okay, I've told you everything you wanted to know about this camera, now you show me your sketchbook," Mark said to her when they sat down at a bench in the park. He was acting like a curious child about Musetta's work.

Musetta took her sketchbook out from her bag. "-It's nothing, really, Mark. They aren't even very good."

Mark laughed, looking at a drawing of possibly the most detailed pigeon he had ever seen, colored in greens and blues like reflections on a river's surface. "You sell yourself short. If I could draw like this, I wouldn't want to capture reality." He paused and thought over that. "No, actually, I would."

Musetta looked into Mark's eyes that were brimming with sadness under their clear, blue surface surface. "Mark, what's the matter?"

Mark half smiled at her and handed the sketchbook back. "It's just…it's three days until Christmas Eve. It'll have been two years since we all met Angel."

"Who's Angel?"

Roger, who was preparing to light a cigarette behind a nearby gate, listened more intently.

"Angel was a percussionist, drag queen, Collins' lover, and our truest friend," Mark said. "She's the one who inspired me to finish my first documentary on AIDS. I called it 'Today 4 U' after one of the tunes she created."

"-And you met him -I mean, _her- _on Christmas Eve?"

"Well, mostly Collins did when she helped him out after he got mugged, then he introduced us to her. That was also when Roger and Mimi met." He took a breath through his nose. "Now _there's_ a story."

Musetta scooted a little closer to Mark without realizing it, then asked, "Mind telling me about it?"

Mark fully smiled this time. "Not at all."

He started out his tale with Roger and Mimi's story, then dove a little further into Angel and Collins' relationship, then into Maureen's protest, and finally back to Roger and why he had shut down by hiding in the loft. He hardly talked about himself during the whole thing, and that was what made it all the more important as he digressed into the events of the latter part of the year. It was all through his eyes, not about himself.

Roger had never heard Mark tell their story so openly with such detail as this. He sat by for a while, just listening to what he told Musetta about that one magic year that seemed so distant now, even if it had been only two years ago. _Time flies…_

"-We had her funeral on Halloween," Mark said near the end of his story with emotion. "I think it was the worst day of our lives, or at least it felt like it. Everyone started fighting. Roger left for Santa Fe where I guess he found his song, and then he came back to find Mimi. No one could find her until Christmas Eve when Maureen and Joanne brought her to the loft. She was freezing cold and it looked like she was dying, but then Roger played his song and she came back to us."

He smiled. "She's given us a few scares since, but Roger's been helping her out with the withdrawal and the AZT, and they kind of live off each other's support. We know it's not going to last forever, but at least we might have more time with her than we thought."

Roger listened to that part of the story, trying to keep control over his emotions. He didn't know whether to hold back a brimming smile or tears when he heard Mimi's dainty footsteps from behind him.

"Roger? Babe, I found Maureen," said Mimi's voice before she walked up to Roger with Maureen in tow. "-You okay?"

Roger turned around, finally decided on a smile, and kissed his girlfriend on the lips. "Just fine." He chuckled lightly and winked at Mimi before saying, "And, Maureen, look at what ol' Marky's up to."

By now, Mark and Musetta were sitting so close to each other that they were almost leaning on each other. Anyone walking by would've thought that they were a couple.

"What the _hell_? I thought he wasn't with her!" Maureen exclaimed when she saw them. "Wait 'til I get my hands on…"

"-Ah, Maureen, don't mess with love. Can't you just feel it?" Mimi said slyly to her while pulling the back of Maureen's shirt to keep her from running over and tearing Musetta to shreds.

"Besides, he's not your slave anymore," Roger added.

Maureen smirked, watching Mark and Musetta talking. "We'll see…"

Mark and Musetta, still oblivious to the three bohos watching them, continued to talk. Mostly Mark finished his story and Musetta listened. Finally, when Mark took a long pause, she said, "You've been through a lot, Mark."

"Yeah, you could say that, but mostly I've watched everyone else."

"You didn't have to observe all the time if you didn't want to."

He frowned. "Someone has to tell the story after it's over."

She tried to catch his eye. "-And you and your camera did a great job at that, but you've got another story to tell."

"-Whose?"

Musetta almost laughed. "_Your_ story, Mark. You did a lot for Roger and Maureen and everyone else, but haven't you ever thought about living your life for you?"

"Of course I have, I just-" He paused and thought about it. "I guess I just forget sometimes."

Musetta rested her hand on top his hand and smiled at him. "-Well, try not to forget next time, okay?"

Mark paused when felt their hands touching. "Okay, I'll try."

The filmmaker didn't move his hand away or try to distance himself, he actually moved closer to Musetta. A few strands of her brown hair brushed against his cheek, nearly tickling him. He didn't notice how close their faces were to each other until her nose nearly touched his. Roger, Mimi, and Maureen all were watching the pair with wide eyes, expecting them to kiss any moment now. Roger crossed his fingers, and Mimi giggled at them while Maureen clenched her fists a little. The suspense was just too much to bear…

Suddenly, Musetta turned her face away from Mark and blushed. "Well, I-uh, I guess it's getting late. I should head back home soon," she said.

Mark took his hand away and looked at the ground blankly. "Yeah. I'll, um, I'll walk you home."

She nodded and they left the bench together, both dragging their feet a little in disappointment, barely speaking as they went.

_Idiot! She told you she didn't want anything like that, _Mark told himself.

Musetta bit her lip. _Why did I stop? Am I afraid? I know he'd probably be mad, but if I could've tried…_

"Damn it," Mimi said. "They were so close too!"

Roger shook his head. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she really doesn't want Mark." He sighed and rubbed the side of his head in frustration. His plan looked like a failure now, just when it seemed that he could finally get the couch back to himself, and more importantly, see his friend with someone. "Come on, girls. Let's go home."

Mimi followed Roger, but Maureen grumbled and stayed back for a little while. "That little shit! I swear when I get my hands on her…"

"What's the matter, Mo?" Mimi asked. "Jealous of your _old_ pookie?"

Maureen shut her eyes and turned away like the diva she was. "No I'm not. Who needs Mark anyway?"

Mimi laughed. "Whatever you say, Mo…"


	6. To Angel!

_**The Camera Loves You**_

**Chapter Six: To Angel!**

Three days later, Roger stood at the sink, staring at a pair of Maureen's underwear that she had decided to air dry in the window. He sighed after a long look at the offending undergarment, then slammed a coffee cup into the sink with a loud clink.

"Two weeks!" he growled. "Two-whole-fucking weeks of Maureen squatting!"

"You should try to be happier. It _is_ Christmas," Mark muttered in response. "Not that it really matters to me much. It just means more messages from Mom." The phone started ringing and he sighed. "Speaking of which…"

"SPEEAAK!" blared the answering machine before the beep.

"_Jingle bells, jingle bells,_

_Jingle all the way,_

_Mark, why don't you pick up your phone?_

_I haven't got all day…"_ Musetta sang into the phone.

Mark sat up and grabbed the phone before the girl could sing any longer. "Thanks for serenading us in the morning, Muse," he said. "Not that you didn't call last night or that Maureen's underpants hanging out the window was enough of a wakeup call."

"Oh, well…she did _what_?" Musetta asked then paused. "Well, um, what I meant to say was, Merry Christmas, Mark."

He smiled and Maureen woke up with a yawn. "Yeah, you too, Muse. So… er, was there anything else you wanted to say?"

Roger looked up and his friend from across the room, curious.

"Well, um-I…" Musetta stuttered on the other end, almost confessing what she wanted to say, but not entirely.

Roger cleared his throat and interrupted, "Hey, you know, we're having that party after the show tonight. She could come if she wants to."

Mark turned to his friend and nodded. "Hey, Muse, everyone over here's having a party at the Life Café tonight after Roger's gig at the old dance studio. You're welcome to come if you'd like."

Musetta paused. "-Alright, I think I can handle Roger this time. But one thing, could I invite Stacie to come over?"

Mark's eyes widened. "The bitch? Why?"

Musetta laughed on the other end of the line. "She's not so bad once you get to know her. Besides, she loosens up a little with a few drinks."

"Fine, be there at nine…but no cat!"

"-No cat," Musetta agreed before Sir Chubbsworth added one of his long, Meeerroows that was so loud even Maureen and Roger heard it. Musetta quieted the cat before adding, with meaning, "See you tonight."

"-See you tonight," Mark said softly and hung up the phone.

"It was that Musetta girl, wasn't it?" Maureen asked with hostility.

"Yeah. I invited her and her roommate over for the concert tonight," Mark said.

"Oh, great," said Maureen. "-I don't think I can handle the love."

"We're just friends," said Mark, thinking again about three days before at the park. "Why doesn't that make sense to you two?"

"Because it's obvious that you care about her, Mark," Roger replied, "-and a lot more than being just a friend."

Mark looked down at the floor before talking. "Well, maybe I…" He paused and bit the corner of his lip, as if to silence the words. "-But she doesn't. It's not like with you and Mimi. She doesn't want to be anything other than friends." He picked up his camera and sighed. "This is all I've got to love."

"And that's the sad thing," said Roger.

* * *

The abandoned dance studio on Avenue C was the perfect spot for Roger's gigs. There was a stage and a few chairs left lying around, along with enough space for the speakers, not to mention that it was practically free to perform there as long as the bohos got permission. By nine-o-clock that Christmas Eve, the hall had already filled with people who had taken chairs while the people just walking in stood in the back. Even Benny; Mark and Roger's former roommate and landlord, was waiting for the performance with his wife Allison, although she did not seem too amused.

Roger tuned up his Fender guitar behind a large curtain that Mark and Joanne had set up. His backup singer, drummer, and good friend Mike stood by, draining a beer in preparation for the show. They nodded at each other shortly before walking out in front of the crowd. Roger played a few notes and winked at Mimi who was sitting in the front row with the rest of their friends. Then he began to sing his latest song, "Merry Goddamn Christmas" all about how the holidays were more like hell than heaven to the screaming crowd.

Mark, though happy for his best friend, was busy thinking about Musetta. It was annoying, since this performance was one of the things that all the bohemians had been waiting for all year, but he couldn't help himself. Still, he kept the camera rolling after Roger finished singing the song he wrote for his former girlfriend April called "Sunny Smiles" and beyond.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen," Roger said to the crowd after drinking some refreshing water. "We'd like to thank you all very much for coming. It's been awhile since me and Mike here have played, so it's a big deal." There was another cheer from the crowd before he added, "But I do have one more song tonight. You might've heard it on the radio as a new single, maybe, but this goes out to someone special in the audience." He looked to Mimi again. "Mimi Marquez, here's to two years of us, babe."

Mimi smiled and seemed to be glowing with pride and love, and Joanne and Maureen hugged her shoulders.

Roger then began playing the song that everyone knew he would play by the end of the night; the one he had written for Mimi a year ago.

"_Your eyes, as we said our goodbyes._

_Can't get them out of my mind,_

_And I find I can't hide_

_From your eyes,_

_The ones that took me by surprise_

_The night you came into my life._

"_When there's moonlight_

_I see your eyes…"_

"Mark?" said a voice that startled Mark into jarring the footage he had collected of Roger's greatest song.

"Musetta?" he asked, switching off his camera and turned his head to find the freckled girl and her roommate behind him. "You came!"

"Yeah, we ran a little late. Had to go to the bank and then some crazy, old homeless woman cussed us out on the way."

"Oh, _her_…" Mark muttered, thinking of the old woman that had done the same thing to him two years ago. "Well, sit down anywhere you like, I guess."

Musetta nodded and sat down next to him quietly. Stacie, obviously a little less than sober, wobbled over next to Maureen who gave her a big smile. Mark turned his camera back on as Musetta moved a little closer to him and watched the concert as well. They sat, mesmerized by the music, as Roger finished the song.

"…_I have always loved you,_

_You can see it in my eyes."_

* * *

"Please, please, no moving the tables!" yelled the waiter at the Life Café for the concert after party.

"I told you, we're good," Roger said and walked past the little man with his pen shaking in his hand. "Do me a favor though," He pulled out a large wad of cash from the performance. "-Make sure all my friends here get what they want."

The waiter nodded with eyes as big as lollipops when he saw the money and darted to the back room. "Yes, sir!"

Maureen sat down at the table first, talking to Stacie as if they were old friends. Stacie was so obviously under the influence that she didn't notice how quickly flirtacious this was getting or Joanne glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. If anything got serious between them, she would intervene.

Roger and Mimi sat down next, talking to each other about the event with a smile on both of their faces. Mark, Musetta and the rest sat down after them, all trying to flag down a waiter for the excellent service they were promised by Roger's money.

Roger started laughing at Stacie and Maureen who were flirting across the table. "Is your roommate always like that?" he asked Musetta.

"No," Musetta replied with a chuckle before taking a sip of her drink. "Only when she's drunk."

"I like drunk Stacie," Mark added.

Musetta leaned over to Mark and whispered, "And I like it when Roger doesn't stick his nose into our business."

Mark nodded. "Me too. Still, he's my best friend, what can I do?"

Musetta shrugged. "Hit him on the head?"

Mark might have commented back, but there was a shriek from the other end of the table.

It was Stacie. She was yelling at Joanne who by now had her hands clawing into Stacie's coat like a ferocious jungle cat ready to kill its prey.

"Maureen, if you kiss this little drunk _thing_ again, I'm going to kill you!" Joanne yelled more loudly than she was known for yelling.

Maureen took another sip of her drink. "-And why does it matter to you?"

"-Because you're trying to piss me off and let me tell you it's not working!" Joanne said loudly. "I don't even miss you anymore. You snore all loud a-and you sing all the time and…who needs that?"

"-Well, fine. Who needs you and your stupid apartment with the heater, and a laundry room downstairs, and with you…wh-who needs that anyway?" Maureen stuttered in return.

Joanne huffed. "I couldn't agree more."

The two women turned their backs to each other for about five seconds and nearly everyone at the table was silent. Then, suddenly, they turned around again.

"Honeybear?" Joanne finally asked Maureen with a feeble smile.

Maureen smiled and practically leaped across the table with her loving smile. "Oh, pookie! I missed you! I mean, you've missed me too, right?"

Joanne grinned and moved a lock of Maureen's hair out of her face. "Yeah, sure I did."

They hugged and shared a kiss for a second, Stacie looking a little confused and hurt by all this, then Maureen added, "Mind if I get my stuff from Rog and Mark's place tonight? I need my space from Guitar Man and Camera Boy."

"-Guitar Man?" said Roger.

"-Camera Boy?" Mark added.

Maureen turned to the two boys with a shrug. "Yeah. One thing I always forget is that you two can be pretty damn annoying to live with."

Roger slammed his head on the table with that and Mimi patted his back. "Well, at least we've got our room back," he said and raised his glass. "To Christmas Eve gigs!"

"To la vie boheme!" they all replied except for Musetta and Stacie who both looked around in confusion.

Collins took a sip of his drink, then added with a raised glass, "To Angel. Forever in our hearts."

Everyone closed their eyes in a communion of sorts and raised their glass. Even Musetta and Stacie, newcomers to this, knew what to do.

"To Angel!"


	7. Non Believers

**_The Camera Loves You_**

**Chapter Seven: Non Believers**

_"__Last Christmas I gave you my heart,_

_But the very next day you gave it away._

_So this year to save me from tears,_

_I'll give it to someone special…" -Whigfield_

After the celebration at the Life Café, everybody went separate ways. Mark and Joanne knew that they would be taking care of Roger's gig equipment in the morning. The bohemians jabbered about having another party like this on New Year's Eve. It was starting to sound like a plan. Musetta and Mark helped Stacie get back home, as she was too intoxicated to walk. She seemed okay with this though, and kept blurting, "La vie boheme!" every few minutes.

Sir Chubbsworth meowed worriedly when his master fell on top of the bed, but Mark and Musetta were just grateful that she was back in the apartment.

"Thanks," said Musetta to the filmmaker.

"It's no problem, Muse," Mark replied with a nod and prepared to leave.

Musetta frowned and fought against her instinct to just let him go. "-Wait!" she yelped. "Um, would you mind going for a walk with me?"

Mark looked at her, bewildered. "You want to go for a walk after midnight in Alphabet City?"

"Just a little one. It's Christmas Eve," she said.

"Alright, just don't forget your coat. It's cold as hell out there."

Musetta nodded and bundled up warm with her coat and scarf. "I'll be right back, Stacie. If you need anything, we'll be right outside."

"La vie boheme!" her roommate shouted.

Mark and Musetta shook their heads at Stacie and walked out the door. Christmas lights glowed in many windows that made colored patterns on the streets like light shining through stained glass windows. In the distance, Mark heard the familiar singing,

_"__Christmas bells are ringing,_

_Christmas bells are ringing…"_

"Nice night," Musetta said.

"Yeah," Mark replied. He noticed that light snowflakes were falling on them. "Oh, _great_, now it's snowing."

Musetta's eyes seemed to sparkle when he mentioned it and she looked around. "Oh, isn't it pretty? It's like a painting in the air!"

"It's just snow, Muse."

"-But it's Christmas snow."

"Well, I guess it makes things more poetic or something that way."

They stayed silent after that, communicating only through expressions every now and then. Musetta seemed so gleeful about the night. Perhaps, Mark thought, it was because of the drink or two she had at the Life Café, or maybe she was just easily inspired by things like this.

A large snowflake landed on Musetta's nose and she laughed. She continued to chuckle about it for some time afterward.

"What is it?" Mark finally asked her.

"It's just something my mom told me when I was a little kid," she said. "She told me that if a snowflake lands on your nose that you'll fall in love. Ha, stupid, right?"

"Yeah…I mean, no, I-well, it's a novelty idea I guess," Mark stuttered, trying to make up for any mistake he had made.

Musetta took a breath. "Do you believe in falling in love?"

"What? Me? No, no," he answered. "I mean, love's been a pain in the ass to me. Who needs it?"

"So…did you love Maureen?"

Mark looked to he ground and sighed. "Yeah, I did. She's part of what messed up the whole picture for me." He gripped his scarf and began to tug at it angrily. "You think that somebody cares about you as much as you care about them, but you're fucking wrong! Instead she broke my heart."

Musetta frowned. "I'm sorry I asked. Look, it's Christmas, let's just forget the shit in our lives."

"Okay," Mark agreed with a breath and a nod, then thought about it. "So why did you ask me? Do you believe in falling in love?"

Musetta took another pause and they stopped walking. "No, I guess not."

She looked at him after that, and for a moment, they did nothing but look into each other's eyes. The colors were like two pools of clear blue meeting two identical forest ponds. Neither of them noticed how closely they were standing to each other on slightly trembling feet, and Musetta did not realize that she was actually leaning toward Mark. Just as they had three days before, their noses nearly touched at the tips. The warmth of the each other's face was so welcoming in the cold night air. The snowflakes landed on Musetta's eyelashes, which helped her with the romance when her eyes shut gracefully. Mark's eyes soon followed. At last, their lips met with a small touch. It was hardly even a peck, just an experiment.

When their lips came apart, Musetta looked to her feet, blushing with such embarrassment that Mark could clearly read her face: _I'm sorry._

Mark's next action was almost automatic. He placed a finger gently under her chin and made her look back at him before saying, "I-uh, I know that we don't believe in falling in love or anything, but mind if we tried that again?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

They both chuckled before Musetta slowly reached her arms around Mark's shoulders and gripped him lightly, waiting for a sign. Mark carefully wrapped his arms around Musetta and pulled her close until their lips could touch again with just a tug toward one another. And so, they shared another kiss, this one real and truer to their hearts. Like a scene in an old Christmas movie or painting, they stood together that Christmas Eve, the snow and cold not bothering them in the least as the night went on and the snow fell all around.

* * *

Roger played his guitar once more that night in the loft. Mimi listened to the notes contentedly with her head on his shoulder and her foot twitched along, like the movement of waves on a lake.

"Happy anniversary, Rog," she said at last.

Roger smiled. "Two years."

Mimi stood up from her spot and looked through her bag. "I have something for you. It's nothing great, but…" She pulled out a small box with a ribbon around it. "Here. It's for Christmas _and_ for two years."

Roger took the present and opened it to find a new guitar pick with a simple red heart on it. He thought of something sentimental. "Now I'll have your heart with me whenever I play. Thanks, Meems."

They kissed and smiled lovingly at each other before the door opened quickly and they snapped out of their romance. Mark came inside, grinning wider than his face could contain, putting his camera down on the table almost carelessly.

"Looks like someone had a pretty good time taking a drunk back home," Mimi commented with a giggle.

"What took you so long anyway?" Roger asked.

Mark missed his friend's question at first and paused before answering, "Oh, uh, I-I just got a little distracted." He coughed and tried to hide his smile. "I was…filming something interesting."

Roger and Mimi smiled at each other then turned back to the filmmaker. "Did you kiss her, man?" Roger asked.

Mark finally decided to admit it. "-A few times, actually."

Mimi cheered and Roger played an almost triumphant chord.

"Guess this means Marky's got a girlfriend," said Mimi.

"Finally," Roger added on top of that.

Mark shook his head. "Shut up, guys."


	8. La Vie Boheme

_Author's Note: So, here we are at the end. Thanks for reading this, folks! And if you liked this, please leave a lovely piece of feedback. I'd greatly appreciate it!_

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

_**The Camera Loves You**_

**Chapter Eight: La Vie Boheme**

_"To being an 'us' for once,_

_Instead of a 'them'._

_La vie boheme!"_

The new year came and so did the New Year's Eve party at the Life Café, much to everyone's pleasure. Maureen and Joanne were speaking to each other again and there wasn't any bitterness between Roger to Maureen, so it made the occasion much better than the Christmas Eve party. Mark, of course, invited Musetta, and they both invited Stacie who agreed to attend. It was going to be the start of a happy new year.

"You guys come here way too much," Musetta said to Mark as they walked into the café holding hands.

"You'll learn our ways soon, boho grasshopper, you'll learn," Mark said to her before he kissed her cheek warmly.

"Get a room," Stacie interrupted them from behind.

They turned to her. "You're no fun when you're sober," Musetta said.

"Yeah, you're about as fun as my mom's voicemails," Mark said and turned to his girlfriend. "Not fun like you, Muse." They nuzzled their noses together in an Eskimo kiss to annoy Musetta's roommate.

"Oh, Mark," Musetta muttered and kissed his lips.

A long, "Awww," interrupted them in the back of them restaurant and they both blushed self-consciously and came to the table.

"You guys look too cute together," Mimi said. "Now Mark's got something to care about besides that camera."

"-A match made in bohemia," Collins added with a smile.

"So, Mark, Musetta, are you two going back to the loft after this? We'll give you some privacy if you want," Roger said with a laugh.

"Shut up, Roger!" Mark and Musetta said at the same time, stifling a nervous laugh.

"-Leave the lovebirds alone, Rog," said Mimi and squeezed her boyfriend's hand.

Maureen laughed. "Yeah, let them go at it when they feel like it."

Musetta took the comment lightly. She was finally starting to realize that this was just how her new friends were and that they really did care for each other. Mark seemed less amused, but at least he didn't yell.

The waiter came by the group and glared at them. Musetta, puzzled by it, turned to Mark. "Why does he always do that to you guys anyway?"

"Ah, it's about time you found out," Mark said with a wink at her. He slammed his hands on the table to get everyone's attention.

Roger, Mimi, Maureen, Joanne, and Collins stood up from their chairs immediately. The waiter turned back around with a horrified look on his face and screamed, "No!" but it was too late. He tripped over his feet on the run while Roger and Mimi pounced on the table and started singing,

"_La vie boheme…_

_La vie boheme…"_

"You didn't think that he wanted us to leave the tables alone for nothing did you?" Mark said to Musetta before he hopped up on the table with Roger and Mimi.

"Mark, what the hell are you doing?" Musetta asked her boyfriend with a laugh.

"The true bohemian initiation: dancing on a table at the Life Café," said Collins.

Musetta smiled back, but ducked her head down low, trying to hide.

Mark leaned over and extended a hand in front of Musetta. "Care to dance, _ma chere madmoiselle_?"

Musetta bit her lip, thinking it over, and sighed. "Well, I guess I've got nothing left to lose."

The clinking of glass and the chattering of their friends grew louder as Musetta took Mark's hand and stepped up onto the table. It took awhile before she gained the confidence to start dancing. Mimi helped her get more into the "rhythm" of the clattering ice cubes, and Roger gave her a smile of his own approval, but it was Mark who really helped her in the end. Taking his hands, she danced a tango or two with him (as pathetic as it looked since it was her first time tangoing), and spun around in a few whirls.

In that moment, Mark and Musetta realized something. The filmmaker saw that he had finally found someone other than his camera to be by his side (and to tango with, to boot), while painter found that she was creating a new piece of her life's mural with someone else in the picture. It was all a new part of their lives; _la vie boheme_.

**Fin.**


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